A Lesson Learned
by Carmen Wayne
Summary: Even Batman doesn't know everything about those around him. (I say PG-13, but if I could, I would say PG-15. Not for language, but the basic situation that the story deals with is a VERY touchy subject. I warn you now!)


Author's note: This is inspired by Andrew Vachss' "Batman: The Ultimate Evil". It was a novel that really got to me-excellently written to combine the fictitious Batman with the facts and realities of the "Ultimate Evil"- crime against children. so. yeah.  
  
Legalities: Property of DC Comics.  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Continuum: Along the lines of the aforementioned novel.  
  
Summary: Even Batman doesn't know and see everything.  
  
A Lesson Learned By: Carmen Kara Wayne  
  
Tears forced their way through black eye line and mascara, staining the teenaged girl's cheeks with black streaks. Her long, well kept hair tussled about in the polluted winds of the city. She was wrapped in a nice leather coat, and she was dressed in seemingly the best of clothes- expensive slacks, boots and a sweater. But even all the layers she wore couldn't hide her hard shaking from pent up emotions.  
She stood on the very top of a high rise apartment building in the middle of December, snow making the rooftop an extremely dangerous place to be. The violent winds and outbursts of snow made it no safer. But she didn't care. All that mattered was ending the pain.  
Her high-heeled boots threatened to slip out from under her as she staggered to the edge and gripped onto it tightly. She leaned over the edge to gaze far down to the streets below and shuddered. Her intentions were bleak, to say the least. She planned to jump by the end of the night. She was only seventeen years old, and ready to take her own life due to a horrible emotional pain she couldn't rid herself of.  
Her name was Layla Monroe. She had snuck out of a Christmas party she was at with her parents at the mansion of Bruce Wayne when her paranoia began to spike. A comment. a touch. that's all it took to activate it. Without remorse, she took her parents' car right then and there and fled. She was more than sure no one would notice she was gone until after her task was completed.  
Layla drew in a deep breath in preparation, and went to step up onto the edge, but the slick bottom of her fashion boots slid on the ice and she went down, slamming down onto the ledge on he chest, the wind getting knocked clear out of her. From there, she slid back and hit the roof on her back. First, a groan escaped her lips and then she opened her soft blue eyes to look up ahead of her face, at the gray night sky. As she laid there, each outward breath coming out in a white puff, she stared at the barely visible moon. A sight she once enjoyed was now something she wanted to try so hard to forget.  
It was one of the few things in that set of bad memories she could see. Pain the only feeling she experienced in those memories. Agonized violation the only emotion and thought.  
With another deep breath of preparation, she forced herself to her feet once more. She wasn't about to give up on what she set out to do.  
Layla attempted to push herself up onto the outer ledge of the roof once more, when she felt a hand grab the collar of her jacket and sweater and pull her back from the ledge. Layla whirled to become defensive, but instead became terribly frightened. Standing before her was the over six- feet-tall of an urban legend, Batman. Right before her very (young) eyes.  
Batman, while his external appearance seemed cold, was horribly worried. He practically watched Layla grow up as Bruce Wayne. He often acted almost as a big brother to her-supporting her, guiding her. He was the one to give her her first job at Wayne Enterprises. He helped her father teach her how to drive. He was at all the cheerleading competitions she was in (that he could make it to). He didn't understand why she was doing this.  
"What are you doing?" he asked her, flat out as Batman tended to do.  
Layla shakily used her hand to wipe her nose, body trembling from cold, fear and angst.  
"I'm-I'm admiring the view." she said in a weak, cracking voice.  
Batman always used the eyes of his opponents to tell what their state of mind was. If they were crazed, lost, hurt, weak, strong, dangerous, harmless. Studying the teenager's eyes told him she was in utter despair, and at that very moment she felt as though she had nothing to lose. He would have to be particularly gentle with her (as much as he could) to try to convince her not to jump.  
"By trying to leap off of this building?" he asked.  
Sometimes jumpers want the flat-out attention, he recalled.  
".why do YOU care? It's not like you ever have before," she said quietly, yet with such conviction.  
"What do you mean?" he asked, voice still relatively gentle for her.  
"Nothing." Layla muttered.  
She turned away to look out across the city, wrapping her arms around her chest. Batman coughed slightly.  
".not much of a talker, but I listen, Layla."  
Layla turned to him, surprised and alarmed.  
"How did you-How did you know my name?"  
"I make it my business to know."  
Layla shuddered a bit, her lip starting to tremble as she fought away an outburst of tears and sobs.  
"You probably know more than my mother."  
"Parental troubles, then?" he asked.  
"Ha," she stressed through a sour smirk. "That's one way of putting it."  
"Did they ground you?"  
Batman felt like that was such a stupid question to the situation. then again, he had witnessed girls like her kill themselves because, even though they were ten, twenty pounds under normal weight for their height and age, someone-typically a male child-said they were fat. Layla didn't seem the type, but everyone, he knew all too well, has a another side.  
"No."  
Simple and yet stressed. 'Okay.' Batman thought.  
"Boy troubles.?"  
"No. You were closer the first time."  
"Are your parents giving you a hard time about school?"  
"Mom is. And that's about IT."  
"So they're ignoring you."  
"Dad never ignores me. No matter how badly I wish he would." she said, voice beginning to fill with hurt and spite.  
"Why?"  
"Because then he'd leave me alone. and he-he-wouldn't do the things he does to me. that he's always done to me."  
'Everyone has another side indeed,' Batman thought, not liking the situation at all.  
"What does he do to you, Layla.?"  
".he." She choked and turned to him, eyes beginning to blaze in anger. "And why does it matter to you?!" she screamed. "You're supposed to know everything! You're supposed to help the helpless!! I've been helpless for TWELVE YEARS! And I've never seen you!!"  
"Layla, what does your father do to you?" he repeated, insistent.  
Layla sniffled, watching him, before dropping to her knees. Batman internally twitched at the cracking sound her kneecaps made against the ice, but she seemed unresponsive.  
"I-I remember when I was five, it was the first time he." She inhaled deeply, face twisting from the memory. "I came home from my first day in first grade. I was so happy, you don't understand. First grade was so. fun for me that day. Mom was gone at some party, so dad was the only one home, and he had sent the butler and maid out to do shopping. I didn't think anything of it when I got home and off the bus-mom felt taking the bus would be good for me.  
"When I had gotten home, dad was waiting for me outside. I was so happy, I ran to him and I hugged him and I talked to him in endless blabber about my day. Dad. he was humored as he picked me up and took me inside. His breath smelled terrible, I remember. I. I didn't think anything of it though. it. it was my daddy, after all.  
"I continued to yap my little jaw off. like kids do. maybe if I hadn't, I would have noticed he was taking me in to. to. this bedroom, up in the west wing." She looked up at him, eyes glassy as tears began to grow in her eyes. "D-Do-you have any idea-how much it hurts-at five years old-to get shoved into-by a full grown man.?"  
Batman felt anger and hurt growing in his chest at hearing this from her. Slowly, he lowered down to her level, to give her his undivided attention.  
"Layla. this has been going on for twelve YEARS?"  
"Yes. but. when." She breathed in, fighting hard not to start hyperventilating. "He damaged me so bad every time. I would bleed every time, and I've had so many infections. when. when I turned twelve. I. I had started my period. didn't slow him down any, though. he just started sodomizing me."  
Bruce Wayne and Batman were in a boxing match at this point in the Dark Knight's mind. 'Kill him.' 'No, we don't kill.' 'You don't touch a child like that.' 'I hate it too.' 'Kill him.' 'No.' 'If he goes to prison, he'll end up dead anyway.' 'I know.' 'What are you going to do?' 'He's going to prison.'  
"It hurts so bad!" Layla screamed suddenly, snapping Batman out of his "meeting". "My own father-he doesn't LOVE me-he doesn't care like he should--! All he wants is to abuse me!!" she shrieked. "Just so he can be HAPPY! And it's alcohol that starts it-alcohol that makes him that way. When he comes home and heads for the liquor cabinet, I *know* what's going to happen to me!! He's going to come for me and if I don't do what he says he'll hit me-beat me with his fists or a cord or-or." She looked at him, tears falling hard and steadily now. ".he even got me pregnant one time, Batman."  
"Layla-"  
"I had to go-I had to go get an abortion-he made me-and I didn't want to-to-bring a kid like that into-the world."  
"Layla, is he home tonight?"  
"Nuh-no-" she said, shakily wiping her nose with her hand again. "He's at a party. then he's leaving for Paris. Business, you know. What could you do anyway?"  
"Things. like that. they leave scars, Layla. Doctors-GOOD ones could create a case-"  
"Mom would be so angry though. I think Bruce would be too."  
"Bruce?" Batman asked as if he didn't know. "Your boyfriend?"  
"Ha, as if. he. he's like a big brother to me. I've wanted to run to him so many times, but. been so scared he'd think of me badly."  
"It's not your fault."  
"I know. I know that-God, do I know it, but it's not. something I want to display."  
"You need to tell someone, Layla."  
"I told you." She looked away, jaw seizing from her physical state. "Now what're you going to do about it?"  
An allowance to let him proceed. He took her arms and lifted her up to her feet as he rose as well.  
"First, I'm going to make sure you get home."  
  
**  
  
"I want to sell all those stocks from when Samson pulled out," Charles Monroe said as he sat, rather grandly, in the back of his limousine, chauffeured by his butler, James. He had left for the airport the minute he and his wife Sheila got the call from Bruce Wayne that Layla was safe and on her way back home. "And tell the PR division they're all fired," he continued, "I'm tired of those schmucks. HR can handle that job. I don't CARE. Why? Let me tell you why, idiot."  
As Charles screamed into the phone at his assistant, he wasn't even remotely aware of where James was taking him. While he ranted, James had turned the limo off of the highway, and down onto a back road. Not too much light was around. The moon, now vibrant in the sky, beamed down and in turn the snow magnified the silver light into a soft hue of natural brightness. The same effect happened with the limo's headlights, only the golden beams provided a golden glow as opposed to silver.  
"Now DO it or else YOU can go with them!" Charles slammed his cell phone shut and sat back. When he looked out the window and saw trees of the forest, his brow furrowed. "James, where are you going? Is this a shortcut to the airport.?"  
The car came to an eased stop, to mind the ice.  
"Master Monroe," the butler said softly to begin. His hands were still set on the steering wheel, and still he stared straight ahead. "When you hired me, so long ago, it was to serve and protect your family. Correct?"  
"Of course, James. Can't this wait? I'm late enough as it is."  
"I've failed, sir."  
"What?" Charles asked, confused now.  
"I've let you hurt that child for too long," James said, voice shaking. "It needs to stop."  
"Oh please," Charles huffed, paying no mind to the large sky window above him as it opened, "I love Layla. It's a. special relationship, and a private one, and quite none of your business!"  
"It's everyone's business now," interjected a third voice.  
It growled deeply, down to him from above, on the car. Charles slowly lifted his eyes and immediately jerked at the sight of a large, inhuman, black mass. White, glowing eyes blazed with anger down at Charles, sending a shudder down his spine.  
"What in the name of God--?!"  
"God doesn't like fathers that torture their daughters."  
The mass, the Dark Knight, Batman, reached down and yanked Charles up out of the car, with one hand, and pitched him over the side to the ground. He hit the street with an ice-breaking thud, and skid along the ground just a bit. He tried to get on his feet, but before he could even raise his back from the street, Batman pounced on him. Grabbing is collar, he pressed on him, into the ground, ice crushing under the weight. He sneered, almost like an animal, at Charles.  
"*Why*?" he demanded.  
"Why.?"  
"WHY?"  
"Oh."  
"*Answer* me."  
"I love her."  
"That's not love!"  
"How would you know?!"  
"I have children of my own-that's not love!" The growled exclamation came so fluently, Batman felt his mind momentarily whirl at the thought of ever touching his 'children' the way Charles touched Layla. "It's disgusting and it's WRONG."  
"Cry me a bloody river. You're the king of pedophilia! We all know it!"  
Batman lifted him by the collar and slammed him to the ground in anger. 'Disgusting.' 'Kill him.' 'The butler.' 'No matter. Kill him!' 'NO.'  
"What are you going to do about it, huh?!" Charles spat up at him. "You can't take me out! No one'll believe you!"  
'Kill him.'  
"Layla is all that is needed for you to fry.'  
'No.'  
"She enjoys it!"  
'. Castrate the bastard!'  
"She wants to DIE."  
'No.'  
"She's such a drama queen. I give her everything she wants. She takes it, she likes it, she owes me. And no one will ever believe you OR her. They all see her as a brat!"  
'DO it!'  
Batman snarled and hit Charles Monroe across the face with everything he had. Blood and chunks of what he assumed were teeth flew out from the contact point of Charles's face and spattered onto the slush and ice around them, which splattered further upon contact. Charles went unconscious as a result from the powerful, angry hit.  
Batman breathed out, trying to expel the urge to kill Charles in that form. 'He goes to prison. They'll deal him a good punishment. They don't take kindly to pedophiles there. Layla needs support.' 'And him?' 'James will take him to the authorities. He's tired of seeing Layla be hurt. We can trust him.'  
Batman slowly rose to his feet and began to walk away from the scene, leaving Charles there next to the limo, bleeding rather terribly. As his boots padded along, he felt his stomach begin to churn, and a sour taste rose up his esophagus to his mouth, burning his throat. It was just something beyond his comprehension. Charles Monroe was the last person he'd ever expect to do something like that. hurt a child. especially his own daughter. In his mind, that was worse than murder.  
  
**  
  
It was about 11:30 PM when Bruce Wayne's limo pulled up to the Monroe residence in Gotham Heights. All around the front were police, which he had fully expected. But something he didn't expect was an ambulance. And the paramedics were gone, no doubt inside. He couldn't fathom why.  
Alfred Pennyworth stopped the car. Before he could get out and get Bruce's door, Bruce was already out and headed for the house. Right when he was about to reach the doors, an arm blocked him.  
"I'm sorry. you can't go in."  
It was Detective Renee Montoya. Bruce frowned.  
"I NEED to see Layla, Montoya."  
"I'm sorry, Bruce, you can't."  
"WHY?" Bruce demanded, beginning to get agitated and worried.  
"She's DEAD."  
"Wh-What?"  
He felt all the blood draining from his face. This was not what was planned. He thought she would be done after they got off the roof. He felt ill.  
"She hung herself. on the doorframe of her bedroom balcony. Left a note. Said it would be good as evidence. Told about the things her bastard of a father did to her. Even told us where to find child pornography he kept locked away."  
Bruce closed his eyes and turned away. His heart was practically at a standstill.  
"No."  
"Es repugnada, no?" she said, hushed.  
Bruce gave a short nod, understanding her completely. It's sick, isn't it? He felt a gentle hand touch his arm.  
"They said you were very close to the family. Are you alright?"  
"Better than Layla ever has been because of that monster. Wish she would have told me."  
"That's the thing about children. They don't know they CAN tell. More often than not, no one tells THEM they can tell someone. So. they lock it away until they feel THIS is the only way out. to kill themselves."  
Bruce swallowed in an attempt to get the disgust from his mouth. He went to speak, but decided she said the truth-which was enough for him. Defeated, he went back to his ride to go home. And he reminded himself to thank his parents for the kindness they showed him during the few years they were with him, for he was starting to learn they were truly a rare breed.  
  
The End 


End file.
